Citation Needed
by Fortune Maiden
Summary: At Ansem's insistence, Ienzo decides to publish their research on the final phase of the Replica Project. Even edits.


**Citation Needed**

_At Ansem's insistence, Ienzo decides to publish their research on the final phase of the Replica Project. _

_Even edits._

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"Here."

At Even's voice, Ienzo glances up from his book in time for a considerable booklet of papers to plonk against the table in the library. Whatever enthusiasm he feels at seeing them is quickly dashed as he takes in the red marks all over the first page. He visibly cringes as he leafs through the rest to discover the redness prevalent throughout, the original text barely visible underneath.

He closes the booklet and looks up at Even. "That bad?"

"A passable attempt at a first draft," Even replies and walks past him to the book shelves. "Read over my notes carefully, then do it over."

"Was there a general problem I should start with?" Ienzo asks, but when Even's only response is a pointed hum, he opens the booklet again, and starts reading. Even's handwriting is a bigger mess than whatever faults he'd found in the paper, but Ienzo struggles through the angry words, and harsh arrows cutting through entire paragraphs. He'd been especially proud of some of those. Even's pen was merciless.

At the end of the thirty-page packet is a note. Ienzo reads it in Even's scathing tone.

_"You're writing is poetic, but this is a research paper not a novel. Organization is a mess, and you dumb down the basic principles of a topic the intended audience has studied longer than you, and overemphasize the work that came before while completely glossing over your own. Are you here to give a beginner's lecture on the workings of the Heart or present the results of the Replica Project?"_

He's quiet for a few moments, as the words sink in. "I don't think they've studied it _that_ much longer than I have at this point," he says.

Even doesn't turn around, but Ienzo can feel him rolling his eyes. "Cumulative hours, perhaps not," he agrees. "But long enough to not need five pages explaining what the heart is and the balance of light and darkness within. You're not adding anything new there, and it is largely irrelevant to your actual topic. I'll concede that you can keep the passages on memory and the sense of self – that is important."

Ienzo nods as he reviews the scribbles Even left on his introductory pages. Even speaks in a calm clear tone, but his true frustrations are evident in his writing. His words are logical though, and Ienzo can recognize the wisdom and experience behind them.

"Thank you for doing this," he says, because that's what he should have started with. "I really do appreciate it."

Even continues to examine the books on the shelf, still not looking at him. "Of course," he says, as though the gratitude is unneeded (but Ienzo knows how much it means to him to hear it). "This is to be your first publication. Nothing less than your best effort is acceptable."

Ienzo nods though he feels a pang in his heart at those words. In his opinion, Even should be writing this. Or Master Ansem. What little contributions Ienzo made were just him carrying out their discoveries.

But Master Ansem insisted that he be the one to publish the results of their last project on the replicas, and Even had agreed.

Ienzo had written plenty of reports before. Even had always made him write up the results of any experiments he participated in, and the Organization kept meticulous records. But that had all been for internal use. As long as it was clear and concise, nothing else mattered. Writing up their research for outsiders to understand proved significantly more daunting.

The red ink wasn't helping his confidence.

"Don't sulk," Even tells him sharply, as though sensing Ienzo's unease. "You may be brighter than most, but you're not infallible. Writing is hard. And it's still better than any of his Lordship's first drafts. Or second ones for that matter."

Ienzo chuckles slightly at that. "I took your advice about that to heart," he replies. Ansem the Wise was notorious for exceptionally wordy and overly technical research papers. Even always cut out the worst of it in his editing, but the final product still had a way of testing the limits of one's focus. When Ienzo was a child, his mentor's writings were a difficult hurdle to clear. He's oddly comforted by the knowledge that age and experience hadn't changed that.

"You took it a little too well," Even retorts. "You went too far in the other direction of not being technical enough. I understand what you did since it's my field too, but no one else will."

"Right," Ienzo says, but the words "my field" stick out too clearly. Even may insist otherwise, but it really doesn't feel right that his name is relegated to the citations and footnotes.

"It should be your name on here," Ienzo thinks out loud, and Even finally glances up from his selected book. "This paper, I mean."

"No," Even says. "I'm far too busy to work on a publication now, and this is a good experience for you."

"I'll still write it," Ienzo replies. "We can just put both our names on it."

"So you want me to take credit for your writing?"

"I don't mind. I'm already taking credit for your research."

"That isn't my research," Even replies almost immediately. His voice is low, so Ienzo turns to him in confusion, not sure if he's misheard. Even and Vexen both were always so protective of their work. "My replicas were copies. They absorbed memories from an existing source, and then appeared and acted on them accordingly. Reconstructing a soul from data and binding it to a vessel for a formless heart to be able to reclaim a body? Not to mention, recreating years of research you were only peripherally involved in largely from memory and whatever simulations you could write in a very limited time? I may have provided the vessel, but everything else was your work. You deserve to be recognized for it."

Ienzo frowns. He doesn't think he's done anything special. Even forgets that Ienzo's work on replicas was only possible because of his groundwork and Ansem's code.

"No researcher works from scratch," Even continues. "All progress is based on what came before. There's a reason several pages are devoted to citation alone. You took my Replica notes, and Master Ansem's research on memory and data and built on top of it. So no, Ienzo, you are not taking credit for my work, and I see no need to add my name to your paper."

Ienzo is still learning how to deal with emotions. He's not quite sure how to deal with the heat on his face or the soft expression on Even's. Absently, he tugs on a strand of his long bangs.

"Then… perhaps, next time?"

Even looks at him carefully, emotions threatening to surface behind his usual aloof mask. For a moment, he looks like he wants to agree, wants to proudly accept the child he helped raise as an academic peer and equal. But the moment passes, and he turns back to the shelves with a snort. "You misspelled "senescence" on pages 12 and 23. Fix that before you start getting high and mighty about a next time."

_~Fin~_

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**A/N**: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! :)


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